by Debra Kristi
“Swear it.” His voice was deep and strong without being overly demanding.
Kyra sucked back her breath. The dragon within him scratched at the surface, anything but dormant, and it thrilled her to the bone, though his demands irritated her beyond her dragon’s wing tip. “I said I would, didn’t I?” Snark bled in and around her words.
Pressed between the peddlers and marketgoers, Kyra found what she was looking for. The door stood open. A thick veil of purple velvet dropped down, obscuring the gap—mostly. Drapes, hanging crystals, bands of feathers, mystic doodads, all shrouded the fortuneteller’s wagon in mystery for the average visitor. They also made it impossible for anyone to poke their head through the door without rubbing against a group of dangling silver stars or glass teardrops. A clever early warning system sounding someone’s approach. Sets of brass bells chimed when Kyra slid past into the show space.
Sebastian sat in an antique stuffed chair, the pattern worn without looking decrepit. It held a warm, comfortable appeal. His face was decorated in black and white paint, a skeleton pattern, the extensive art partially hidden by the shadows from the hood of his cloak. A lot of thought and effort had been put into the show—the illusion.
The old tarot deck he always carried lay fanned out on the antique cherry wood table between them, illuminated by the mellow flicker of candlelight. The candles, pillars of various sizes and shapes, hugged the edges of the small space. Melted wax dripped down the sides into messy piles on the floor and the scents of musk and thyme filled the room, creating a full effect.
Sebastian looked up, his dark gaze locking in on Kyra’s and warming upon their connection. “Wish you’d come at a better time. I’m working right now.”
She dropped into the chair across from him and placed her money on the table. “I know. I’m your next customer.” She bit her lip and studied his full ensemble. Not so much the cloak and skeleton paint, but the dark suit he wore beneath. If he ditched the tie made of rope, he’d look hot.
His brows bored down into his gaze, a sudden weight pressing upon them. “You’re kidding. I’d do your reading for free, off the clock. You know that. Wait.”
Money slid across the table, Kyra pushing it closer to Sebastian’s hand. “No. Now is good.”
His hand hovered over the bills, a rapid tap of his finger drumming on the hard wood surface. Kyra remained fixated. Black, chipped polish pulsated up and down, pounding thoughts of what she might have to do deeper into her psyche. She shook her head, looked up to meet his stare.
The lines on his face softened. “What’s this about?”
She pressed the palms of her hands to her temples, ran them up and back, racking her fingers through her hair. “There’s something going on around this guy I saved. Something dark. I need to figure out what it is before it destroys him.”
“You should let him go. It’s not your fight.”
Heat ignited lashing fire around her irises, and she leaned into the table. Ash lingered on her tongue, a reminder her temper had momentarily gotten the better of her. She sometimes found it nearly impossible to control the anger bubbling inside her. Remaining still, she allowed the silence to grow between them. “Don’t fight me on this. Just do my reading. Deal the cards.”
His eyes narrowed, bored into her, but she knew he would follow through. His hand swept over the bill, hooking her fingers before she pulled away. There, he held her for a matter of seconds. It could have been five lifetimes for the way she felt. The worlds must have stilled, sucked the oxygen out of his trailer, because everything stopped in that tiny moment of time. Nothing else existed—mattered—but him, and them together. Walls fell, barriers broke, and truths were revealed all in a simple touch. She didn’t want Chelsea to have Sebastian. She didn’t want anyone but her to have him. Dragon heritage be damned.
The connection broke, but Kyra continued to stare at the same point on the table.
Sebastian crumpled the bill in his fist and stashed it away.
His hands moved quick and with the utmost skill shuffling and mixing the deck. “This is the first chance we’ve had quiet time alone since…” He paused, hesitated, but didn’t need to finish the sentence. Kyra knew what he was going to say. Since she’d saved Marcus.
She nodded, eyes fixed on the table. “I know.”
“I still want to talk to you.”
Kyra looked up, met his gaze. “We can talk about whatever you want.”
They stared at each other, letting the silence expand, fill the room. Then the lines at the corner of Sebastian’s right eye began to tighten. The right corner of his lip twitched. “Can we?”
“Of course.” Kyra threw her hands wide open and her backbone straightened, as if thrown by a mini shock blast.
“Then tell me, what are you doing with Chelsea?” Sebastian’s hand grasped at the air, then dropped to the table. “Why are you trying to push me away? Push me off on another girl?”
Kyra’s heart jumped, stumbled, and droplets of anxiety began to bead her brow. “What do you mean?”
His face darkened and eyes turned the color of a moonless night. “Stop trying to force a relationship out of me.” A gentle smile slowly graced his face, bringing with it a warm, soft glow. “I don’t need help in the girlfriend department. If I do, I’ll let you know.”
Kyra bit her lip and tried to hide her amusement. His warning was dragon song to her ears. She preferred to see Chelsea charred by fifty dragons then end up a couple with Sebastian. And the fact he chose to talk about the girl instead of his supernatural heritage was intriguing. Was this a sign of jealously? Did he return her feelings? “No Chelsea, got it. What about the other thing you wanted to tell me?”
Sebastian shook his head. “We can discuss that later. Not in the shadow of Chelsea and yours.”
“Mine?” Kyra raised her brow and cocked her head. “You mean Marcus?”
“Yeah. That.” His eyes flickered up from the cards then back down again. “Let’s do this. Okay?” He swirled the mess of cards together on the table and gathered them together for the third time. “Clear your mind,” he instructed, then asked her to shuffle the deck and break it into four stacks. Kyra warmed within and did as he directed.
Through the years Sebastian had established his own unique way of reading the cards involving pairs. Kyra watched in anticipation, an over sense of nerves wreaking havoc on her system. The back of her neck became clammy as he reached for the first pair—the pair representing her current situation. He flipped them over, and her heart sank.
At face value, one might think The Wheel of Fortune was a good thing, but she knew it wasn’t always so. She stared at the card, realizing she’d have to accept any and all mistakes and decisions she’d made. And in this case, the Wheel of Fortune card was paired with The Tower card. The pairing had disaster scribbled all over it. Plus, The Tower card was inverted! She tried to remember what that meant. Something about change and falling. Maybe that’s why people were falling from the tower.
“Don’t start freaking out. Most people misinterpret the cards.”
Kyra looked up to find Sebastian watching her. She nodded and tapped the table. “Continue.” She didn’t want him to see the concern she nursed or sense the knot nestled in her stomach. She glued her focus to the table and the cards spread upon it.
Sebastian pulled the top two cards from each pile in turn, moving from left to right, and placed them as pairs in a line. In her influencers spot were the inverted Lovers and The Hierophant. The Page of Cups and The Devil, upside-down, flaunted the things she should consider or ponder. And the final cards, an upended Queen of Wands and Death, were meant to help her decide a course of action. She hardly saw how. Her heart hammered and the beast deep within her growled. She reached for The Death card.
“Wait!” Sebastian’s hands clamped down on hers, and she froze. The beat of their hearts, the rush of their blood, drumming together in skin against skin, played like a Yinglong’s heaven-bound song. She yanked her han
d back. For a moment Sebastian didn’t speak, nor did he move. He sat perfectly still, a thoughtful look brewing in his eyes. He sighed and expelled the air from his lungs with the force of a ruptured volcano. He returned to the deck, moving over the cards, rapidly jumping from one to the next. “Not all is as it appears.” He repeated the words again in a whisper. “Not all is as it appears.”
“But death, The Devil, and a burning tower.” Eyes heavy and shoulders slumped, Kyra fell back in her chair, seeping exhaustion. “Isn’t it clear what’s coming? Death by fire. Again.”
Sebastian leaned into the table, closer to her. “Not at all. What I see is a big change in your future. Inevitable change. Set in motion by things you’ve already done.” He pointed to The Wheel of Fortune, then moved his finger to the inverted Tower. “It may be painful, I’m not going to lie. Or it could simply be a slow process. See this?” He pointed to her influencers, the inverted Lovers and The Hierophant. “You’re letting your ideals and beliefs sway your decisions. Could be good, could be bad. And it looks like a lover has more control in the situation than you do.” He shook his head. “Really, Kyra? I would have thought differently of you.” His gaze remained steady on her. It made her punchy, fidgety.
Scales bristled down her backbone. Heat burned along the rims of her ears. “Just read the cards, Sebastian.”
At that moment she hated him. Not because he was giving her a bad time, but because he was right, and she knew it. Marcus Blackall made her weak. It was the damn need, the pull. She didn’t understand it yet, and she sure as hell didn’t like it, but Marcus was a dragon, like her. That had to be a good thing. She hadn’t considered him a lover before he’d started stinking up her space with the Serpicose. Since, it’d made her wonder. Maybe they were a meant-to-be thing. What did that mean for Sebastian, and whatever was happening to her feelings regarding him?
“What do they say?” she asked.
Sebastian’s finger drew a small circle on The Lovers card. “Is it because you love him?” His eyes remained low, watching her reaction until the last moment. Then his gaze flickered up.
Her head shook, unsure how to answer. She couldn’t love him. She hardly knew him. So then why was she risking so much for him?
Sebastian’s shoulders slumped and he diverted his gaze. “Things to consider.” His hand moved to The Devil. “Are you your own worst enemy? Stuck in old patterns and belief systems? Do your beliefs and routine prevent you from growing?” His mouth puckered, twisting his lips to the side, as if daring her to admit her unruly dragon was making the decisions, but she was stubborn and he knew it. They both knew it.
She wrinkled her nose and met his gaze.
His hand slid over to the Page of Cups card. “Moving forward, you must think before reacting. Don’t be closed to alternatives, but keep an open mind.” He tapped the Queen of Wands. “Seeing the card this way is a warning. Don’t take risks with anything you’re not willing to lose.” He locked his gaze in a deep stare with hers. It spoke of things she couldn’t quite place, but wanted to. So rich with meaning and emotion. It almost hurt to lose the connection, have him look away. Almost.
Sebastian exhaled and continued. “Death. It could mean your death or the death of someone near you. I suspect it means the end of something important, a cycle. But know this: Death cannot be cheated. Where there is death, there is always death. Understand?”
She blinked and her heart clenched. No, she really didn’t understand. Or maybe she simply didn’t want to understand. She wanted to cheat death, and as a dragon she wasn’t used to being told there were things she couldn’t do.
With a sympathetic smile gracing his face, Sebastian took her hand in his own. It was warm, a cozy cocoon. “To take a mark away from Death, another must be paid in its place. Balance must always be maintained.”
That she understood. She squeezed his hand. “We’re talking about the man I saved, right? Death is coming for him, and it won’t stop.” She glanced down at the cards. What lay before her was a challenge, but not impossible.
Sebastian bowed his head, a sense of understanding filling the void between them.
Kyra released Sebastian’s hand and a frigid draft washed through her, chilling her to the tip of her tail. Every muscle tensed, shuddering with pain, and she wondered how Ice Dragons endured extreme polar conditions. She looked to Sebastian and blinked. He either didn’t feel it or was the cause of it. She shook off the chill like snow off a jacket, then dropped her fists on the table. “Great. You know I’m not going to lie down and let that happen. How do I stop it?”
Sebastian’s eyes widened and he straightened in his seat. “You can’t be serious. Were you paying attention to the cards? Did you hear the bit about sacrifice and cycles coming to an end? Do you want that for yourself? Tell me no!”
Kyra stood, pushing back the chair with a loud screeeech across the wood floor. “If you’re not going to help me, I’ll find someone who will.” Her face dropped and she looked away, turned to go. She hated it, hated walking out on Sebastian in this manner, but it gave her no choice. Stupid pull or Serpicose or both, stripping her of her free will. Clamping obligation and desire for Marcus to her like a set of iron shackles.
Sebastian was up and around the table before she could make it out the door. He blocked the exit. “Please tell me you aren’t going to do something reckless.” He took her hands in his own and held them tight. When she shifted restlessly, his thumbs began to warm small circles into them, slowly rotating across the backs of her hands. It reminded her of the infinite possibilities that waited for her. Encouraged her to show strength in the face of Marcus’s magic. Made her feel—
Her hands pulled free and found the side of his face. Held him captive, eye to eye. “Reckless is what I do best.”
He started to rebut. She didn’t give him the chance. With all the fury and rage of her dragon she kissed him, hard and fast. She didn’t know why she kissed him. She didn’t know why she did half the things she did, but it felt right and it was exhilarating. Brief as it was, nothing else existed in the span of those moments. There was only him, his delicious lips on hers, and the perfect, salty flavor of Sebastian.
She thought he liked the kiss. More than liked it. Had returned it, even, but now… Was it a good sign or a bad one when a guy stood stone-stunned after a kiss?
Kyra stepped away and out of the wagon trailer before Sebastian could come to his senses.
Kyra melted into the chaotic melody of the mass moving along the midway. She thought she heard Sebastian calling her name, but didn’t turn to look, only quickened her pace.
She’d kissed him!
And not a tiny peck or a sweet-nothings kind of kiss. The type one’s not likely to forget, maybe ever. It was a game changer. A relationship changer. Or a friendship destroyer. What had she done?
Shit!
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Kyra’s pulse increased and she pushed her way through the crowd with more force than necessary. Stay on task. Focus, her inner voice repeated on a loop.
If Sebastian wasn’t going to help her in the manner she desired, she knew someone who would. Someone who had been around a lot longer, with decades verses years of accumulated knowledge of who-knew-what at the carnival. She was placing her bet he’d point her in the right direction.
Unlike the majority of those who had set up camp at the magical destination, Higgins chose to live in the thick of it. His tiny abode was nestled behind the whining motor of the Roulette Wheel spinner. Clear electric bulbs were strung across his cozy porch, the circuit hum running across the line lost to the racket of the mechanical monster operating the ride.
An old metal patio table with folding lawn chairs pegged the owner as sociable, yet casual. The green and white plastic weave of the seats looked comfortable, and an elderly gent settled back deep in one, nursing his chipped coffee mug. Not who she expected to find. Harmonious clarinet sounds whispered from the faded vintage Shasta camper behind him, the music of a Benn
y Goodman quartet playing Moonglow.
“Good evening, Kyra. Won’t you join me?” Zeke motioned to one of the empty chairs.
Her footing stalled for a fraction of a second while she considered how the blind man always knew who was around him. Does it have to do with what I smell on him? The scent was familiar, yet not. Her gaze probed the area for Higgins, finding nothing. The clarinet continued through a song change, bringing lyrics dripped in a woman’s voice, a song of memories and a love gone by.
A crash bellowed from inside. The sounds of dishes clashing. Higgins tinkered in the trailer.
With collected courage in her heart and pursed lips, Kyra approached and sat beside Zeke. “I never realized the two of you were such good friends.”
Zeke set his mug on the table, gentle warmth spreading across his features. “We go way back. Higgins is a good man. The best you could possibly have in your corner.”
Higgins appeared in the framed light of the doorway. He held up a silver coffee carafe. “Warm up, anyone?” Without waiting for a response he meandered over, set a cup in front of Kyra, and poured. When it was full, he turned to Zeke and topped off his mug.
He pulled up a chair, putting his blind friend in the middle and giving Kyra a direct view of both men. He savored the steam from his mug of liquid warmth like he was lapping chocolate from the evening air. A contented smile crept across his face. The kind that comes from secrets and a unique sort of knowledge, and Kyra understood she was privy to some confidential boys’ club. Except she had yet to learn their secrets.
Higgins pushed his coffee to the side and leaned forward on the table, arms crossed. “So tell me, lass. What can we do for you?”
Kyra blinked, sank deeper into her seat. “Lass? Where did that come from?”
Chuckling, Higgins shook his head and covered his face with his palm. “I don’t know. Days gone by, I guess. What a day it has been, hasn’t it?”
Never had Kyra seen Zeke or Higgins so relaxed or delighted. She took a deep whiff of the coffee, curious if it was spiked. As she did, her gaze shifted to Zeke. He was nodding to Higgins in affirmation, but his eyes seemed to hide secrets. What am I missing? Is this a reference to the fire? Or was it something more?
